


I Need You

by orphan_account



Series: Stardust [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blanket Forts, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Kinda, Love Confessions, M/M, Star Gazing, i needed a lot of fluff when i wrote these, proabably ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 05:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2569265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherin Dean gets babysat by a celestial being and takes the opportunity to turn the library into a blanket fort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Need You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoodyAquarius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoodyAquarius/gifts).



Dean groaned and tossed his head against the back of the sofa repeatedly. After their last hunt Sam had grounded him. It was his first grounding in his life and Dean was seething. He was 35 years old for Christ sakes. There was no reason for him to be benched. There was no reason for Sam to be worrying about his anti-demon blood transfusion. He was fiiiine. 

 

Mostly.

 

Dean groaned again and rolled his head to the side to glare at his unrepentant brother. Sam smirked slightly from where he was researching lore about the mark. Dean huffed, scratching idly at his crotch and changed the channel on the TV. God, there was nothing to watch! Dean grumbled and complained about this to Sam.

 

“Then put in a movie, or read a book.” Sam said, turning a page and proceeding to ignore his older brother. Dean sighed and sipped his beer.

 

A half hour later Dean’s new babysitter arrived. Dean fumed silently and turned his back on both of the dickbags. It was bad enough that Sam wasn’t letting Dean be home alone but he was leaving Cas to watch him.

 

Cas! 

 

After the events of the last several months, Dean and Cas’ relationship had…idled. Now they were unsure of where they stood with one another and it made conversation awkward. If Cas ever talked that was. The angel had always been of few words but now it was just plain ridiculous. He usually just sat there and stared at Dean, or he read, while Sam went of doing God knows what. 

 

Dean was so lost in his angst that he nearly missed Sam’s goodbye. He threw his head back over the couch and glared as a response. At least Sam had the decency to look moderately abashed; he knew about Dean’s feelings for Cas. And he knew that this situation was actually slightly detrimental to Dean and Cas’ relationship.

 

It made Dean angry at the angel. Angry for leaving so soon after he was cured, angry for sticking with that bitch Hannah even after everything, angry because when Cas did speak it was always about the mark or about his girlfriend and Dean’s blood boiled. Hannah just needed to…fuck off! 

 

Cas offered a quiet “Hello Dean” and continued Sam’s research. So…it was one of those days. Cas didn’t want to talk. Never mind that Dean did; he was boooooored. It got tedious talking to the brick wall of an angel after a while, so now he didn’t even bother. Whatever Hannah had done now had put Cas in a grey mood and he wasn’t going to impose it on Dean. He didn’t realize that that only made it worse. Listening to Cas wax poetic about Hannah was annoying as hell but it was better than his silent pinning. 

 

Dean grumbled to himself and proceeded to get up and strip nearly all the bedrooms in the bunker and create an expansive blanket fort in the library/main hall. Cas watched him silently as he strung blankets over the bookshelves and desks. His head tilted to the side like a puppy as he watched Dean work. 

 

“What are you doing?” Cas asked eventually, standing to hold the ladder Dean was standing on. Cas was always protecting him, whether it be from vampires and God himself, or a wobbly ladder. It made Dean’s stomach squirm pleasantly.

 

“I’m building a blanket fort, what does it look like, Einstein?” Dean smirked tying of the corner of the blanket and stepping down the ladder. 

 

“Why?” 

 

“Because I’m bored as hell.” Dean said honestly. Cas frowned to himself and let go of the ladder, causing it to wobble dangerously. Dean swayed and the angel’s hand shot out and gripped his waist to steady him. Dean’s arm swung in a wide arc and gripped the shoulder of Cas’ hideous new trench-coat. Cas’ hand slipped slightly underneath Dean’s shirt and they both gasped. 

 

Cas looked slightly shell shocked and confused in that adorable way of his. Dean shivered at the warmth of Cas’ fingers against his skin. It was the first human contact he’d had since becoming human. Oh there’d been handshakes and back slaps but this was different. It was more intimate. Even if it was just an accident. Dean couldn’t help but lean into the touch.

 

That seemed to snap Cas out of it and he blinked and released Dean, stepping away to go back to Sam’s research. Dean sighed internally and moved the ladder over and continued with his fort. An hour later found him dragging mattresses into the living room to place between the bookcases. After he deposited the last bed he turned around to ask Cas to go collect some pillows, only to find himself alone. 

 

His heart stuttered in fear and confusion. He resented the mother henning, sure, but he’d never liked being alone. He was a people person by nature. He craved human contact. He also just happened to be a mass murder with no friends and no one to give him said contact. He looked around in confusion only to spot Cas in the observatory, peering through the telescope.

 

He supposed Cas missed the stars. Who wouldn’t, when they were a celestial being, when they’d spent centuries among the stars? Dean missed the stars sometimes. They were right there but it hurt to look at them. He supposed what he missed the most were the times he and his mother used to sit out back looking up at them.

 

On the nights where Mary and John were fighting, and John stormed out in a huff, Mary would make Dean some cocoa and they’d go outside and sit on the patio. They’d try to count the stars and they’d make up ridiculous constellations and stories. They’d sit there on their bean bags, wrapped in a ridiculous amount of blankets, laughing up and staying out until even the cicadas had stopped chirping. 

 

Sometimes though, when Dean looked at the stars, he didn’t see those porch nights. He’d see Cas smiling privately at him. That small little smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes that was like a ray of light in the padded prison cell where he kept his heart. He’d see the stars and he’d think of this celestial being, this ball of light and energy, this multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, this Angel who’d given up everything for him time and time again. 

 

And sometimes he’d let himself believe that maybe, just maybe Cas loved him back. 

 

But then the angels fell. Sam nearly died and he did what he had to. He didn’t look at the sky much anymore. 

 

Dean’s stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly and he blushed as Cas turned away from the telescope, frowning.

 

“You’re hungry.” He said in that way of his that wasn’t really a question. Dean shrugged and mumbled something about it being one of the downsides of being human and walked away into the halls blushing. He heard Cas clinking around in the kitchen when an idea came to him. 

 

When Cas came out of the kitchen, thirty minutes later, bowl in hand, he paused in shock. He stepped back to take in the glory of Dean’s blanket fort. Dean had turned off the bunker’s lights to showcase the homey atmosphere of the fort. He’d covered the room in sheets, blankets, mattresses and pillows. It looked comfy and bohemian in a really strange way that one wouldn’t normally associate with Dean Winchester. There were Christmas lights strung around under the sheets that formed the roof and they were leading towards the telescope nook. 

 

Dean was laying on a mattress underneath the telescope, surrounded by pillows, hands rested on his stomach as he peered up at the sky through the opened dome. 

 

“Dean…what?” Cas asked, approaching in confusion. Dean said nothing, patting the mattress beside him. Obediently, Cas sat, staring at Dean’s face and waiting for him to speak.

 

“When I was younger, after mom died…I used to look up at the stars and think of her. I didn’t believe in heaven…you know that. But I believed in the heavens…” He gestured with open arms to the starry night, turning to Cas, silently asking if that made sense. Cas nodded and smiled slightly. He’d never heard Dean talk about his mother. Not really. “We loved the stars. Used to look up at them all the time. After…I believed that she’d turned into a star. She was too perfect, too good to be anything other than a star.” He sighed. “I used to stare up at the stars at night, hoping against hope that she’d come back to me. Then after a while…I starting wishing I’d return to her.” He admitted. Cas scowled. Dean sighed and turned to Cas, sitting up. Cas wordlessly handed over the bowl of soup, and the spoon. Dean blinked at it in shock and then looked up at Cas, shock in his eyes.

 

“Tomato and rice?”

 

“Yes. I believe your mother used to make it for you when you were sick.”

 

“I’m not-” Dean tried to protest weakly.

 

“No, you’re not sick. But you’re not well. That confession is proof of that.” Cas sighed, scooting back to look up at the stars. Dean smiled wordlessly and ate his soup in silence. “I want you to be well again Dean.” Dean’s eyes flickered to the angel, watching him talk. “I need you to be well.” Cas’ eyebrows furrowed and Dean’s heart stuttered. “I…I need you.” Dean closed his eyes and inhaled heavily. There was no way Cas had said that thoughtlessly. He knew…he knew Dean couldn’t say those three words that were supposed to be so simple. He’d told Cas he needed him before…but never had it been in a moment without duress and never had the angel been the one to say them. 

 

When Dean opened his eyes, Cas was looking at him so earnestly that Dean knew. He knew that ‘I need you’ was really just ‘I love you.’ He swallowed in shock.

 

“I…I didn’t realize…” He tried, looking down at the dregs of his soup in shock. Cas frowned and looked at his hands. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Dean looked at him in confusion. Cas blushed.

 

“I thought you…I thought you knew but didn’t want me…that way. That’s why I thought you never said anything.” He admitted. Dean let out a soft chuckle and ran a hand through his grown out hair.

 

“What a pair we make, huh?” Cas blinked in confusion and Dean clarified. “I thought the same thing." Cas blushed and shook his head in wonder. Dean set the bowl onto the floor and lay back, pulling Cas down next to him to look up at the stars. “I thought you and Hannah were…”

 

“She wants to be…” Cas whispered, turning to look at Dean’s moonlight bathed face. “But my heart belongs to another.”

 

“Do you have a heart?” Dean asked curiously, turning on his side to stare at his angel.

 

“Of a sort…” Cas frowned, trying to think of a way to explain it. 

 

“Hey,” Dean reached out and placed his hand on Cas’ chest, where his vessel’s heart was. “I don’t have much of a heart left. It’s battered and bruised and broken. But what little there is…it’s yours.” He whispered. Cas took Dean’s hand from his chest and brought it to his lips, kissing his knuckles. 

 

Dean blushed and squirmed closer to Cas, pulling a blanket with him. Cas didn’t let go of his hand, and linked their fingers together. He rested his head against Dean’s as they looked up out of the bunker at the twinkling starlight. 

 

“My metaphorical heart is yours, as well, Dean.” Cas smiled.

 

“I need you too.” Dean whispered into the darkness.


End file.
